


drown

by inkin_brushes



Series: Immortals (Vamp AU) [4]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Biting, Blood Drinking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-27 06:50:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6274123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkin_brushes/pseuds/inkin_brushes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wonshik should have known that he could sew himself back together all he wanted, but that didn't mean the lightest of tugs wouldn't send him to pieces again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate summary is, "Wonshik finds out that Hakyeon is banging a vampire and then everything goes to shit." But hey on the upside, Ken finally makes an appearance in this! I feel like I need to warn you guys that there's a scene in this that might make some people uncomfortable? I don't know how to warn for it though :| dubcon biting, I guess? Just want to give a heads up. Also general emotional trauma. Things get a bit crazy.

Several thick casefiles landed by Wonshik’s elbow with a bang, making his desk rattle and Wonshik himself jerk in his seat. “The Dragon needs you to give these files to Hakyeon,” a voice said above Wonshik’s head, and Wonshik looked up blearily. Sanghyuk was standing beside his desk, hands on his hips.

Wonshik wasn’t sure what time it was exactly. It must be around 1 a.m. since it was so quiet, the desks around his own mostly empty, most of the active hunters having left HQ for patrol. Wonshik had needed the interruption. He’d been filling out some incident notes, and had been close to dozing off, and it wouldn’t do to drool on his paperwork. He’d have to start all over. 

“Hakyeon isn’t here,” Wonshik said thickly. Hakyeon had been taking a lot of nights off recently, and Wonshik suspected he’d gotten a bit more serious about the guy he was seeing. Hakyeon wouldn’t talk about it though, would blush if Wonshik mentioned anything. He was acting like a twelve year old girl. It was _adorable_

“I know,” Sanghyuk said patiently, like he was talking to a toddler, “that’s why I’ve come to you. You have the car.”

“Don't dump your duties on me,” Wonshik said, but Sanghyuk was already skipping away with a merry wave. “Does he need them tonight?” Wonshik called, and Sanghyuk paused in his escape just long enough to shout back an affirmative.

Wonshik looked down at the forms he’d been filling out, and decided they could wait until later, or even tomorrow. He stood, stretching, and swiped the files from the Dragon off his desk, picking his keys up as well. 

The drive to Hakyeon’s place was uneventful, no other cars on the road. Wonshik stifled a yawn as he parked, rubbing at his eyes once he’d cut the engine. He tripped up the slim staircase to Hakyeon’s apartment, casework held in his arms. There was too much stuff to just slip it all in under the door, so Wonshik fumbled for his spare key, letting himself in. 

He tossed the files onto Hakyeon’s counter, by his landline. “Anyone home?” he called, and got no reply. Not surprising, all the lights were off.

Wonshik rubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t want to go back to HQ. He wanted to talk to Hakyeon. About the paperwork, the case, whatever it was. About life. He felt like they hadn’t sat down and talked in ages, Hakyeon always seeming to slip away before any real conversation of substance could be struck up. But right now Wonshik was so tired he wasn’t sure he would be able to string coherent enough sentences together to manage a heavy conversation.

Hakyeon had just been acting so oddly lately. Well, odder. So much had happened in the last few months, Hakyeon’s mental state fluctuating like the tides. Wonshik was worried for him. First Hongbin — and Wonshik wasn’t going to go there right now, heading off that swell of emotion before it could take hold — and then just everything else; taking on Sanghyuk, the Elimia attacks, the nest. It was a lot, not just for Hakyeon, but for Wonshik as well. Wonshik was still trying to cope with what had happened to Hongbin, and he knew, on some level, Hakyeon was as well, and then with everything else on top of it, it was no wonder that Hakyeon wasn’t quite himself anymore.

“Too tired for this,” Wonshik mumbled to himself, stumbling through Hakyeon’s kitchen, his living room, and into his bedroom. He flopped onto Hakyeon’s bed, which was actually made, for once, and closed his eyes. He’d take a nap, and wait for Hakyeon to come home. Hakyeon might shriek at him for being a creeper but Wonshik didn’t care. It wasn’t the first time Wonshik had crashed in Hakyeon’s bed, and he was tired of Hakyeon evading him, wanted to talk to him. So he let his eyes flutter shut, let sleep take him.

When Wonshik woke later it was after 3 a.m. He felt a little better, but still like he’d been pulled from the depths of sleep by something. After a moment he realized the house wards were humming, and his own wards were tingling a bit. But while the house wards were heralding the return of their owner, Wonshik’s were going off for a different reason. He rolled off the bed and got to his feet, casting his senses out, and the flame wheel on his back began to heat up, while the staked heart on his chest itched. The hairs on his arms stood on end.

There was a vampire nearby. 

Wonshik reached to his belt and pulled his stake free as his heart rate picked up, his senses sharpening. He walked from Hakyeon’s bedroom to his living room slowly and then stopped, pressed against a wall, listening. 

There was a key turning in the lock. Wonshik couldn’t see the door, but he could hear the noise, hear the sound of the knob turning. He knew it was Hakyeon, the house wards would be freaking out if it wasn't, and they were calm. The feeling of _vampire_ was very close now. One must have tailed Hakyeon home. Wonshik didn’t understand why the house wards weren’t picking up on it.

The door creaked as it opened, and then there was the sound of shuffling footsteps and— something. It took Wonshik a moment to realize he was hearing more than one pair of feet.

“Hey, wait until we’re inside— _we’re not inside_ —” It was Hakyeon’s voice, and the door slammed shut. There were wet noises filtering into the room, and Wonshik realized Hakyeon had brought his boyfriend home with him. He blushed. That explained why Hakyeon hadn’t noticed he was being tailed, somewhat, though Wonshik’s wards were positively screaming, so, theoretically, Hakyeon’s would be as well. 

There was the soft sound of something— a jacket, maybe— hitting the linoleum floor of Hakyeon’s kitchen, and then Hakyeon’s breathless laughter. “Mm, you can— yes— _ah_ —” There was a gentle thud, and then a long drawn out moan.

Wonshik was well beyond mortified now, and he decided he needed to interrupt before they got any farther, and before the vamp, wherever the fuck it was, took off. It felt far too close. 

He edged along the wall, quietly, not really sure how to go about this. He and Hakyeon were comfortable with each other, very much so, but he didn’t want to interrupt him making out with his boyfriend by screaming, “THERE’S A VAMPIRE NEARBY.” Chances are the dude didn’t even know Hakyeon was a hunter. 

Wonshik peeked around the corner, into the darkened kitchen. Hakyeon was— augh. Wonshik made a face. Hakyeon was pinned against his front door by over six feet of attractive dude. From this angle, the dude’s back facing Wonshik, it looked like the guy was sucking a hickey into Hakyeon’s neck while Hakyeon clawed at his back. The sounds Hakyeon was making made Wonshik feel like he might barf. 

The dude moved off Hakyeon’s neck, going back up to kiss him, and that was nice, it shut Hakyeon up at least, and Wonshik decided now was the moment.

He crept around the corner, unsure how exactly to go about this. Skulking probably wasn’t a good choice, so he took two large steps forward, about to clear his throat, but he didn’t get a chance. Were it not for his wards and his training, he wouldn’t have been able to see what came next. As it was his eyes could barely follow along, nevermind the rest of him. 

The dude whirled, fast, too fast, and the movement was off, wrong— vampire. Wonshik had just enough time to swear in his mind before he was— grabbed? Pushed? He wasn’t sure, all he knew was he was careening with great force onto the top of Hakyeon’s kitchen table, which splintered under his weight and sent him, along with the shattered wood, sprawling on the linoleum floor. His breath whooshed out of him. 

His flame wheel had gone off when the vamp touched him, but the thing was still standing over him, red smeared across its mouth. So that clearly wasn’t going to help. Wonshik had managed to keep hold of his stake, and he thought about attempting to bring it up to attack, somehow, but then the vamp was stomping on his right forearm. The bone didn’t break, but if Wonshik lived until tomorrow he’d have one hell of a boot-print bruise on his arm. 

The vamp bent and pulled the stake from Wonshik’s grasp, not removing his foot from Wonshik’s arm. Wonshik eyed the vamp’s chest with utter hatred. He wasn’t about to look into its eyes, no matter how pissed he was. He was, apparently, stupid, but not that stupid. How had he not noticed, how had _Hakyeon_ not noticed—

Wonshik’s head snapped to the side, searching for his friend. Hakyeon’s legs had evidently given way as he was sitting on the floor, his back still leaning against the door. He had his hands over his mouth, and he was staring at Wonshik with wide eyes, his expression— stricken. Stricken and full of despair. There was fresh blood shining on his neck.

Wonshik got chills. 

“Hakyeon,” Wonshik said hoarsely, not sure what he was trying to convey. Move, run, fight.

Hakyeon sobbed, cringing like Wonshik had struck him. His eyes darted to look up at the vampire— at its face— and the vampire looked back at him, silent and still, almost expectant. 

_Don’t look into its eyes_ , Wonshik thought dimly. Something wasn’t right.

The silence stretched on. Wonshik realized this must be the Elimia that had attacked Hakyeon all those months ago. His fear was subsiding, just enough to let rational thought filter back, everything feeling far too sharp, moving too fast. 

“You aren’t glamoured,” Wonshik said slowly, tongue feeling thick. “You aren’t glamoured,” he repeated, the reality of that statement sinking in.

Hakyeon pulled his hands off his mouth, finally, and Wonshik could see he had his own blood smeared across his lips. “Do something,” he said, voice shrill. He was speaking to the vampire. The vampire shook its head, just slightly, and Hakyeon made a low sound of despair. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Wonshik demanded, startled by how strange his own voice sounded. He began to squirm, and the vampire surprised him by pulling its foot up, letting him go. Wonshik promptly scooted away frantically, until his back hit the cabinets. He was bleeding from the wood scraping him, the pain registering dimly. If the vamp could smell the blood it paid no mind.

The vamp walked back to Hakyeon, not turning its back on Wonshik. It grabbed Hakyeon by the upper arm — Wonshik growled — and pulled him to his feet. Hakyeon was crying, Wonshik realized, and as he watched the vamp and Hakyeon stared at one another, like they were communicating. 

“What are you doing?” Wonshik cried. “Why are you— what is going on?” He got to his feet shakily, not liking the way the two of them loomed over him. 

“Wonshik,” Hakyeon said, voice high and panicked. “I— I’m—” He looked to the vamp for help.

Wonshik struggled to find his words. The edges of his vision were fuzzy, a strange buzzing in his ears. “You were kissing it—”

“Taekwoon,” Hakyeon said desperately, and the vamp twitched. It was like watching a stone statue move, deeply unnerving. “His name is Taekwoon. We—”

“We?” Wonshik interrupted shrilly. “ _We_? You let it bite you. You aren’t glamoured and you _let it bite you_ —”

“Wonshik, please, let me explain—”

Wonshik couldn’t tear his eyes away from the red on Hakyeon’s lips. New horror dawned on him. “This is— this is where you’ve been going on your off nights— who you’ve been seeing—” Hakyeon, who’d just been about to say something, snapped his mouth shut. Oh god. “And here I thought— I thought you had a boyfriend— were finally getting a life again outside of work.” Hakyeon’s expression shifted, something horrifically guilty blooming across his features. Wonshik closed his eyes. “You’ve been sleeping with it too, then.”

“Wonshik,” Hakyeon said softly, and Wonshik opened his eyes. Hakyeon had always been a pretty bad liar, and the truth was written all across his face. Wonshik’s skin was crawling.

“So, what,” Wonshik said, his fear and confusion slowly turning to fury, “you’d go off hunting, killing vamps with me, and then come crawling back into bed with this monster?” He pushed away from the cabinet, still feeling shaky but no longer needing the support. His anger was giving him strength. The vamp fucking— shifted, it shifted so it was standing slightly between Hakyeon and Wonshik, like it thought Wonshik was a threat to Hakyeon. The monster was protecting Hakyeon from _him_. Wonshik snarled. “How do you— do you even realize how many levels of fucked up this is.”

Hakyeon’s expression was wretched. “Yes,” he admitted. “I do. But, Wonshik, I— I’m—” He broke off, his eyes flicking to the vamp’s face before he mumbled, “I am rather fond of him.”

Wonshik laughed, the sound high, hysterical. “Rather fond of him? I am rather fucking fond of Hongbin, but you don’t see me rolling around with him in the dark.” Hakyeon’s face visibly paled at the mention of Hongbin, and Wonshik was viciously pleased. “I— we locked Hongbin up, because he’d been turned into a monster. I love him, I love him more— more than you’ll ever know— but I locked him up, listened to him slowly go mad, and all this time— you—” He cut himself off. “I can’t do this.”

Wonshik stumbled forward, picking up a piece of splintered wood from the wreck of the table, holding it like he’d hold a stake. The vamp and Hakyeon were standing in the way of the door. “Move,” he said, ready to fight if he had to. He knew if this was an Elimia, he didn’t stand a chance, but he’d love to try.

Hakyeon’s facial expression settled into stubborn lines, but the vamp grabbed him around the waist and hauled him bodily out of the way. Hakyeon shrieked and Wonshik lunged for the door, wrenching it open. 

“Wonshik, no— _Taekwoon, put me down_ —” Hakyeon’s voice followed Wonshik as he ran down the hall, down the stairs, and into the brisk night air. 

——

Wonshik didn’t remember driving home, didn’t even remember deciding that was the place he wanted to go, but then he was there, standing in his kitchen, pumped up on energy and completely lost on what to do.

“Fuck,” he said, kicking out at the wall so hard he made a dent in the plaster. “ _Fuck_.”

He was angry, so angry, and confused, and underneath that he was hurt. How could Hakyeon— after all that vampires had done— after everything they’d seen— after _Hongbin_ —

For the second time in his life, Wonshik found himself crying on his kitchen floor. He’d never intended for this to become a habit. He hated crying, and he wasn’t sure why he was doing it now.

Maybe it was because the wound that losing Hongbin had caused had never been able to heal. There was no closure. If Hongbin had died it would have been— devastating— but at least it would have been done, and Wonshik could have moved on. As it was, Hongbin wasn’t dead, wasn’t gone, but he was out of reach. And there was no comfort for Wonshik, no solution. 

They’d urged him to just let them end it, had always made it clear that was an option to turn to. But Wonshik couldn’t— he _couldn’t_. Wonshik couldn’t snuff the last sparks of Hongbin out. Locking Hongbin away was all he could do. He couldn’t un-turn him, and couldn’t kill him. What other options did he have?

Sometimes, when Hongbin was screaming, screaming in pain, screaming from hunger, Wonshik thought about walking into his cell and letting Hongbin feed on him, just to make the noise stop. But that wasn’t a solution. Hongbin would kill him, Wonshik had no illusions about that. And then Hongbin would still be a vampire, still be stuck in a cell, any relief he got from Wonshik’s blood would fade, and Wonshik would be dead. 

Wonshik hiccuped, sniffling. He blearily looked at his fridge. There were a lot of things pinned to the metal doors by magnets in varying sizes and colors; post-its, case notes, dentist appointment reminders. Toward the middle of all the clutter was a crappy photograph of himself and Hongbin. It was unflattering, taken selca style on his phone after Hongbin had said something that made them both laugh. 

If Hakyeon got to be with one of them, if precious, perfect hunter Cha Hakyeon was allowed to lie in bed with a monster, allowed to break all the rules, why couldn’t Wonshik? Especially when Wonshik loved Hongbin so much—

That led to the only other option, besides staking Hongbin or leaving him to rot in his madness, which was letting him out, letting him feed until he came down. That was the only option where Wonshik had any hope of getting him back, but it wasn’t one Wonshik had never truly pursued when he was in any sort of logical state. Even if Hongbin was let out, allowed to get the blood he needed and maybe, _maybe_ come down, the chances of him killing Wonshik, simply by accident, were high. And then there was the problem of Hongbin being out of his mind. The probability of him being captured again, or worse, staked, was also high. He’d never make it far, and Wonshik wouldn’t be able to control him, not as he was, out of his mind with bloodlust. Not to mention that letting Hongbin go on a murdering rampage, just so Wonshik would get to hold onto him— it was wrong— 

A vivid flash of Hakyeon moaning as that Elimia bit him flashed through Wonshik’s mind. Wrong.

It wasn’t fucking fair. All this time, Wonshik had been bending over backwards, trying to do the right thing, because humans didn’t have relationships with vamps, they didn’t— love them. It was wrong. He hadn't had to call Hakyeon in, call HQ, have them haul Hongbin away to let him be prized apart in a dark cell by his bloodlust. But Wonshik had called them. Because it was right. Even if he loved Hongbin, it had been the right thing to do.

Wonshik looked at the photo of himself and Hongbin laughing, thought about Hakyeon with blood smeared across his lips. He choked on a sob, a thought occurring to him, slowly unfurling, dark and poisonous.

Fuck doing the right thing.

A calmness stole over him, halting his tears as the idea grew, took hold. He made a decision, wiping at his face as he stood. 

Wonshik’s seams had begun unravelling again, but he’d managed to pull them taut, managed to keep himself from falling apart all over again. It was strange, the feeling that clicked into place. It was like being ice all over again, except now he had something burning under it, a purpose. 

His anger drained away, and his hurt. His movements were sharp as he walked to his livingroom, pushing aside the pile of folders and notes on his coffee table until he found the folders he wanted. 

Three folders. The ones on the Elimias Hakyeon hadn’t taken. Hakyeon hadn’t looked at the last one, but Wonshik had, and he’d meant to say something about it, but the thought and folder itself had been buried beneath other things. 

He flipped the folders open, tossing the one on the female aside, and the one on the male without a picture. The third Elimia, it had stuck out, because of all the sightings, and the picture. There was a lot of info, which in itself was unusual, but what had grabbed Wonshik was the fact that several of this Elimia’s sightings overlapped with the time and place of Taekwoon’s. And the most recent sighting was only three years ago, in a city about a half hour away. This Elimia had been sighted in this same city several times, over the course of the last fifty years. Wonshik would start there.

He traced a finger along the edge of the photo, mouthing the name on the paperwork. “Jaehwan,” he whispered to himself. The photo wasn’t the best, but the Elimia seemed to have fairly distinctive features. That would help. 

He shut the folder and took it with him into his bedroom, tossing it onto his bed before going into his closet and pulling out his dufflebag. He didn’t think too hard as he packed, feeling properly like ice now. He tossed in clothes, his toothbrush and some other toiletries, his laptop. The top drawer of his dresser held some hunting equipment he foresaw he’d need, so that stuff went into the bag too. He stuttered for a moment, carefully picking up a stake. His had been left behind, in Hakyeon’s apartment. This one was Hongbin’s, the one he’d dropped the night he’d been taken. Wonshik put it in the bag as well. 

He stuffed the folder in on top of everything else, and then zipped the bag up. 

The closet door was still open and he knelt, tossing some shoes aside until he found the pair of old boots he never wore. He fished in the left shoe and drew out a thick roll of cash, which he stuffed into the pocket of his dufflebag. 

Before he left he took a couple of pain pills, and after a moment of thought, tossed the rest of the bottle into a side pocket of his bag as well. He paused on his way out the door, going back to grab the crappy picture of himself and Hongbin off his fridge. Then he left, the door shutting softly behind him.

——

The city Jaehwan was seen in three years ago was much like the city Wonshik lived in. Maybe a little cleaner, but it still had a bad end. Wonshik found a shitty apartment for rent rather quickly, paid rent for the month upfront. There was no paperwork involved. He could have stayed in a motel, it would have been cheaper and potentially cleaner, but Wonshik wanted the protection a residence held, wanted the inherent warding. Motels and hotels, even the cheap ones, got sorcerers to cast wards on the rooms, as was the law, but they could never replicate the warding a true human residence held. 

There were roaches, though seemingly not many. Not as many as there could be. The kitchen faucet leaked, but the water all ran clear. Wonshik had stayed in worse places, and this place had quite a few of the furnishings, table and chairs, couch, a bed he probably wasn’t going to sleep in. None of it really mattered though. He wasn’t going to be here long.

Hakyeon kept calling him, and Wonshik shut his phone off, sensing anger lurking under the ice as well as other, more complicated emotions. He didn’t have time for them. The clock on his phone before he switched it off read 3:30 p.m.

He sensed he should eat, so he went for a walk, picking up a burger from a fast food place, which he ate as he slowly walked back to his new apartment. 

This city didn’t, as far as Wonshik knew, have a branch of hunters like them. There was the VCF, of course, but they didn’t have information accessible to the public, a database Wonshik could tap into. But it didn’t matter. There was a newspaper in the street, and Wonshik toed it over. It was from yesterday according to the date, and the headline was about a recent vampire attack. He bent, to read the smaller print. Third attack in a week, all near here, this part of town. The paper mentioned a club. 

Wonshik walked on, finishing his burger. He knew where he was going tonight. But first, he was going to spend the rest of the daylight hours napping on his couch, since the mattress in his new place was stained and had no blankets or sheets.

——

Wonshik had to shout over the music when he ordered the first shot. It burned going down, but Wonshik’s eyes didn’t water, his face remaining placid. The wooden stool he’d plunked down on was uncomfortable, and the music deafening. The air smelled like pot and something earthier, the temperature just this side of too warm. It was a sensory overload. 

He’d never played bait before; he’d seen others do it, but he wasn’t sure exactly what to do now. The eyeliner had been harder to apply than Wonshik had been anticipating, and he was inclined to think he looked more like a racoon than a seductive young man. Maybe he looked like a seductive raccoon. His outfit was pretty damn plain, he wasn’t really drawing eyes. Well, this was why he’d never been chosen to play bait. He supposed now he just had to sit here for a while and let the scent of the club seep into the fabric of his clothes, and maybe spill some alcohol on himself for good measure.

Wonshik looked around himself, at the people crowded into the club, the flashing lights, the smoke. He dimly reflected that this was a terrible idea, terrible and wrong. But he was ice, and he couldn’t care, not didn’t, _couldn’t_. He couldn’t feel enough emotion to reach past the ice, so he felt only a sort of calm numbness, and a sense of purpose. 

In all probability, he was insane. He’d cracked, finally. It was really the only explanation, he thought as he tossed back another shot. He’d thought he was holding it together fairly well, didn’t feel cracked per se, but if he was in his right state of mind, he wouldn’t be sitting here. Rational people didn’t do what he was going to do.

Something had definitely broken. He hadn’t felt the exact moment, but he knew, now, that something in him had shattered, and he couldn’t put it back together. Maybe it had happened when he’d come up with this horrific idea, or when he’d decided to act upon it. Maybe it was when he’d discovered Hakyeon kissing Taekwoon. Maybe it happened all the way back when Hongbin had been taken from him. He didn’t know. He just knew he wasn’t right, anymore. The realization was rather dim, and didn’t inspire any emotion. 

He didn’t care. It was a cold, hard feeling, but it kept him moving. He’d made up his mind and if he faltered now, he’d drop all his pieces and would never be able to even begin piecing them back together. He hadn’t even been able to really piece himself together the first time around, not like he thought he had.

“Just keep going, Wonshik,” he whispered to himself, throat burning from the alcohol. “Just keep going.”

“You want another?” the bartender asked loudly, gesturing at the two empty shot glasses in front of Wonshik. 

Wonshik debated on the wisdom of that. He did have a job to do. “Yeah,” he said, against his better judgement. 

Half an hour and several more shots later, Wonshik was the drunkest he’d been since high school, or maybe since that night with Hakyeon— no, no, don’t go there. He’d need more shots if he went down that road. 

A woman pulled him off his stool and into the throng of people on the dance floor. Wonshik didn’t really take note of her appearance, let himself drift away on the feeling of being drunk, the music pounding through his bones. 

Maybe he was too old for this, but soon the feeling of sweating bodies pressing in on him made him light headed, and not in a good way. His stomach informed him that maybe he’d had two shots too many, and Wonshik blearily made his way out of the crowd, staggering to the exit and into the night.

All those fishing trips watching others pretending to be drunk, and now Wonshik was well and truly plastered as he stumbled down the pavement, leaning against the dusty walls for support. He gulped in huge lungfuls of the cold night air, but his stomach refused to settle, and finally he stumbled into an alleyway to retch, the alcohol burning as it came back up.

“Fuck,” he gasped, after the bout was over. He spat, but the taste wasn’t going to leave his mouth that easily. He was reminded why he didn’t drink to excess anymore, and he leaned with his back against the nearest wall, eyes closing and head tipping back. The world didn’t sway so much, when he was standing still. “I’m never drinking again,” he slurred.

“No, you’re not,” a voice hissed by his ear, then his shoulders were being seized.

His wards went off, the energy blowing through him, which caught Wonshik off guard; he hadn’t even noticed them tingling, and, shit, he really was never getting drunk again. He couldn’t afford to be this fucking distracted. 

The energy sizzling through him had a bit of a sobering effect, the adrenaline that suddenly sent his heart pounding also helping to clear his head a bit. He blinked, trying to focus, and saw the vamp had let him go and staggered back, falling to its knees. 

Wonshik took a step forward, stumbling only slightly, and planted a kick right in the center of the vamp’s chest, sending it sprawling onto its back. He reached into his front right pocket, pulling out a very thin, lightweight net of slim silver chains. It took him a few moments of fumbling to untangle it enough that he could toss it over the vamp’s body, the chains crisscrossing over its face, making it shriek angrily. Where the silver touched skin it began to smoke. 

Wonshik stepped over the vamp’s body so his feet were planted on either side of the vamp’s shoulders, holding the edges of the net down. It was thin, thin enough that even a human would be able to pull the fragile links apart, but silver had a weakening effect on vampires, and the net was charmed. Wonshik didn’t want to take too much time though, just in case the net wouldn’t be enough to hold the damned thing once the effect of his wards wore off.

He knelt a bit, examining the vamp’s face. It was a male, but it wasn’t Jaehwan. Wonshik hadn’t really expected to stumble upon the Elimia so easily.

The vamp hissed at him, fangs extended, and Wonshik said, “Urgh.” He reached into his back pocket, pulling out the slightly crumpled picture of Jaehwan from the file. He brandished the picture in the vamp’s face lazily. “Do you know this vampire?” 

The vamp snarled at him in answer, jerking slightly so he could snap at Wonshik’s hand. Wonshik took a breath in through his nose, lips pressing together as he gathered himself, then he slapped both his hands down on the vamp’s chest, sending out another burning shock. The flame wheel on his back was simmering angrily. 

The vamp cried out, then choked off, wheezing. Wonshik tried again, bringing the picture back up. “ _Do you know this vampire_?”

“No,” the vamp gasped out, lisping a little around its fangs, belying its young age. “Fucking asshole hunter—”

Wonshik stuffed the picture against the vamp’s face, and it shrieked when Wonshik’s wards sizzled unhappily. “Well, you’re going to find him for me.”

“Like fucking hell I am, you piece of shit, I’ll rip you apart—”

Wonshik pulled out his switchblade and a little empty vial. He poked the blade through the net, pricking sharply at the vamp’s neck. The blade wasn't silver, just steel, so the wound would heal quickly. Wonshik pressed the tip of the vial to the cut he’d made in the vamp’s skin, letting a few drops of blood seep in. The vamp was shrieking the whole time, spitting curses. 

He put the stopper into the vial when he had what he wanted, and he slapped the vampire across the face to get its attention. “Do you see this?” he asked rhetorically, holding the vial between his thumb and forefinger. The vamp’s eyes fixed on it, fangs still bared but no longer screaming at least. Not that anyone would come running, but Wonshik needed the damned thing to listen. “My name is Wonshik, and as you’ve so smartly figured out, I’m a hunter. I am looking for this Elimia, his name is Jaehwan. I need to speak with him. And you are going to find him for me,” — the vamp began to squirm, hissing again — “or I will hand this vial of blood into the VCF and you’ll be running from them for the rest of your, probably short, life.” 

The vamp fell still, watching as Wonshik tucked the vial into his pocket. Its fangs receded, and it seemed slightly afraid, looking at Wonshik like he was mental. 

Wonshik braced himself and then placed his hands on the vamp’s chest, zapping it for a third time. This blast was pretty weak, but the vamp fell limply back to the pavement nonetheless. Wonshik stood, taking the net with him and gathering it up in one hand. “You have a week,” he said sharply. 

He stomped on the vamp’s face as he was leaving the alleyway, just for luck. 

——

Wonshik repeated this process for five nights, sans the excessive drinking. During that time he managed to root out three more vamps. Since this town didn’t have a division of hunters, the vamps were surprisingly lax. Easy prey. 

He didn’t really plan to take the vials of blood he’d collected into the VCF. If the situation had been different— but it wasn’t. He couldn’t summon enough energy to be concerned that the vamps would have time to eventually track him down and kill him first. That was why he’d rented an apartment instead of staying in a hotel. 

The sixth night was uneventful, his wards silent as he stumbled from yet another club on an unfamiliar street. About five blocks away from the club he stopped stumbling, straightening his spine with a sigh. The club of the night was pretty far from his rented apartment, and he hadn’t been in this part of town before. 

He headed in the direction of his apartment. The street he was on was empty, the lamps bright above his head. If he came upon another club while on his way back, he might stop in, and try to fish again. He rubbed a hand over his face. He was so fucking tired. The energy, the purpose, he’d gotten when he’d made his decision, was fizzling. His resolve hadn’t, just the fire in his veins. It left him exhausted and, under his ice, sad.

 _Just keep going_ , Wonshik thought to himself.

He turned right, onto another empty street, and his wards began to prickle, just a bit. The feeling grew stronger as he walked, the tattoos warming, and he smirked. He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets as he walked (he’d given up trying to dress sexy and dolling himself up in favor of just being comfortable), curling the fingers of his right hand around the smooth wood of Hongbin’s stake in his pocket. 

There was a narrow alleyway looming ahead, a gaping maw of darkness between a closed boutique and a restaurant, and he slowed as he neared it. He pressed himself against the window of the boutique, sliding along until he could poke his head around the corner of the building and peer into the alleyway, squinting. His eyes took a brief moment to adjust, the owl eyes itching. There was a dumpster, some trash on the concrete, but no vampire. 

He pushed off from the wall, moving to stand at the mouth of the alleyway, lips pressing together grimly. His wards were still prickling, some of them burning angrily, but he couldn’t see a vamp. 

Wonshik pulled his hands out of his pockets, the left one empty, the right still holding the stake. “Come on!” he yelled, looking up, to the rooftops. No one responded, the sound of his voice echoing off the buildings.

Something hit Wonshik in the center of his back hard, sending him sprawling on the ground, into the alleyway. He was able to get his hands out, so he could brace himself, but it still hurt, his palms scraping against the cement, chin hitting the ground and making him bite his tongue. The blood tasted sharp in his mouth.

There was a weight on his back, pinning him down, and his wards sizzled with a violent shock, informing him that he wasn’t being mugged; this was a vampire. 

Then a mouth was by his ear, murmuring, “I heard you were looking for me.”

Wonshik jerked away, pushing up with his hands and trying to dislodge the vampire on his back to no avail. “Get the fuck off me,” he spat.

To his surprise, the vampire listened, and the moment the weight was gone off Wonshik’s back he sprang to his feet and whirled. The vamp was a good eight feet away from him, close enough to make his wards jangly but too far for Wonshik to rush him. Wonshik was standing nearer to the opening of the alleyway, the vamp in near darkness, but Wonshik recognized his face. Finally.

With effort, Wonshik stood properly, letting his stake drop to his side, mimicking the vamp’s relaxed posture even if his muscles were beyond tense. “Jaehwan,” Wonshik said, the name a question and accusation. 

The vamp smiled, and it was all teeth, fangs run out slightly. “Yes, that’s me.”

Wonshik forced himself to breathe, to remain calm. “My name is Wonshik. I’m a hunter.”

“I heard that too,” Jaehwan said, beginning to circle him slowly. Wonshik let him, didn’t move. The effort of holding still was making his muscles cramp, trying to repress the shivers running through him. Jaehwan oozed predator, in a way Wonshik had never seen before. “Why have you been looking for me? At first I thought this might be some sort of trap, as you can’t possibly be trying to hunt me on your own. And yet, you most definitely are alone. Are you here to kill me? If you know what I am, then you should know it’s foolish.”

Wonshik didn’t think he’d ever heard a vamp talk so much at once. It was strange. “I know you’re an Elimia.”

Jaehwan stopped walking, now standing at the mouth of the alleyway, blocking Wonshik’s exit. The lighting from the lamps backlit him so Wonshik couldn’t really see his face anymore. “So, which are you, stupid or crazy?”

“Both,” Wonshik said honestly, and Jaehwan laughed, an utterly chilling sound. “I’m not here to kill you. I have a proposition.”

“Oh?” Jaehwan said, a note of amusement still in his voice. “Do tell.”

Everything that had led him to this moment flickered through Wonshik’s mind, all the hunts, the nights in Hongbin’s arms, drinking with Hakyeon, the cold days spent in front of Hongbin’s cell, Hakyeon kissing Taekwoon, Hongbin’s laughter—

Wonshik’s wards were crying in despair, and his heart was pounding in his chest. The ice had cracked and he was so frightened. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself as best he could, and then looked at the figure in front of him once more. 

“I want you to turn me.”


	2. Chapter 2

Wonshik’s words hung in the air, the silence that followed them heavy. Jaehwan had already been standing fairly motionless, but he went utterly still, that unnatural, dead stillness. “Oh,” he said softly, and Wonshik got the feeling he was enjoying this. “That _is_ stupid and crazy.”

Wonshik was inclined to agree. He felt on the verge of passing out, lightheaded with fear. But he’d said it, he’d said the words. There was no going back now. 

Jaehwan appeared to be thinking; at least, that was how Wonshik interpreted his silence. Finally the vampire said slowly, “Why should I turn you? Give me a reason. And don’t bother threatening me, I’m not like the others. We both know it’s pointless.”

Wonshik opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. He didn’t really have anything to bargain with. There was intel at HQ, and he’d thought he could use that as potential chip, but now that Wonshik was here looking at the Elimia, he didn’t think Jaehwan would really be interested in any of it. His heart was fluttering, dread settling in his stomach as he realized he had nothing.

He must have paused too long, because Jaehwan said, “Let’s try again. Tell me why you want me to turn you.” He resumed circling Wonshik, going a quarter of the way around, so Wonshik could see his face again. He looked patronizingly amused. “If it’s a fun story, I might consider it.” 

Jaehwan was laughing at him, and it made anger burn in Wonshik’s belly, anger and shame. “My lover was turned,” he spat, then his face flamed, looking to the ground. 

Jaehwan sighed. “Oh, is this going to be some sappy reason then? You want to be with them for eternity. I’ve heard that one before, though not from a hunter.”

Wonshik shook his head, and curiosity made him ask, “What happened to the last person you heard it from?”

“I told him no, and he went off to be with her anyway, and she ate him. It was quite funny.”

Again, Wonshik shook his head. “I— he was— he was a hunter, like me—”

“Ah, a revenge turning. Very tragic.” He made a motion with his hand. “Please get to the good part, I am getting bored. You don’t want me to get bored.”

Wonshik suppressed a shiver. “We took him — my lover — into custody, I’ve listened to him go mad with bloodlust, for almost a year. It— it hurt, but it was the right thing to do, you know, so I did it— but then I found out, my best friend—” Wonshik sucked in a breath, suddenly furious all over again, “I found out, after all that, my best friend is fucking a vamp.”

That got Jaehwan’s interest. “What?” he asked, suddenly seeming excited. “How exactly does that work? I don’t think I’ve ever come across a vamp more interested in fucking humans than eating them.”

“He’s— he’s an Elimia, like you. You know him, I think, his name is Taekwoon—”

Jaehwan made a noise, almost like choking, and it startled Wonshik into silence. “Taekwoon?” he said incredulously. “ _Taekwoon_? Are you sure?” He was motioning with his hands now, and Wonshik blinked. “About yea high? Dark hair, surly expression, has the temperament of a poked bear?”

Wonshik nodded. He didn’t know much about Taekwoon’s personality, but he knew, without a doubt, that was the vampire Hakyeon had been with. “Yes. He and my— my friend, Hakyeon, have been—” Wonshik cut himself off, remembering the way Hakyeon had moaned when Taekwoon bit him. There were no words for it.

“Wait,” Jaehwan said slowly. “Hakyeon? As in, Cha Hakyeon? As in—”

“Elite vampire hunter, Cha Hakyeon, yes,” Wonshik said. It was ridiculous, everything about this was so ridiculous. “He’s— he’s let Taekwoon feed on him. I think they’re— together,” Wonshik said in a small voice. 

The silence of the night was broken by Jaehwan laughing, so loud it was jarring. Wonshik shuddered as goosebumps rose on his skin, his teeth chattering. He fought the urge to cover his ears. “Oh, that’s hysterical, and for all these centuries I thought he was so boring. But he’s fucking a hunter? _The_ hunter.” Jaehwan was still laughing. “This just got very fun.” For a moment, he assessed Wonshik, smile still lingering on his face, then he said, “Yes, I’ll turn you. I think it’ll make things... interesting. I do hate being bored, and everything’s been far too dull for far too long.”

Wonshik’s breath whooshed out of him, legs feeling weak. “Now?”

Jaehwan turned his face to the sky, inhaling. “It could be done tonight,” he said, “There is still time.” He looked back at Wonshik. “But not here. I will have to take you elsewhere. You’re going to need to drop that, though.” He nodded to the stake.

Wonshik had almost forgotten he was holding the stake, Hongbin’s stake, and he brought it up, holding it to his chest. “I want to keep it,” he said. It wouldn’t do any good against Jaehwan, but it was important to him. He offered it to Jaehwan, handle first. “It’s important to me, I’m going to want it back.” 

Jaehwan approached him slowly, amusement still curling the edges of his mouth, but his eyes were hard. He reached out and took the stake from Wonshik’s hand gingerly. It was difficult letting it go, letting his last defense down even if it was a feeble one. 

“This is going to be exceedingly unpleasant for you,” Jaehwan said simply. “The process is already unappealing, but with all your wards...” He let himself trail off. 

“I’ve made up my mind,” Wonshik replied, forcing himself to meet Jaehwan’s eyes. 

Jaehwan smiled, and it was sharp, nothing human about it. Then suddenly his face was alarmingly close to Wonshik’s, breath fanning over Wonshik’s face as he whispered something, and Wonshik felt iciness sweep though his body, fanning out from his chest, and his vision went dark. 

——

Wonshik regained consciousness slowly, like the sleep was something black and sticky, wrapping spiderwebs around him. He couldn’t move for a long time, couldn’t open his eyes, but he could hear, could feel, though focusing was difficult. It was cold, and there was a repetitive noise that he knew but couldn’t put a name to, and then there was silence.

Finally he was able to open his eyes, and his whole body jerked as he inhaled deeply, the remnants of the spell popping. Jaehwan was kneeling over him, haloed in moonlight, and he looked amused. “Asshole,” Wonshik said shakily, trying to sit up. “What was that?”

Jaehwan grinned. “I was a sorcerer, when I was human,” he said. “Things change, when you’re turned. The magic humans use is for, well, humans to wield, and so many spells I could once do I no longer can. But I have retained some skills.”

Wonshik worked to keep his breathing steady. They seemed to have left the city, and were in a forest somewhere. There was grass and dead leaves underneath Wonshik. He looked past Jaehwan, and in the light of the moon could see a lot of displaced dirt and a shovel. The vampire had dug a large hole. Wonshik’s heart began to pound, and the grin on Jaehwan’s face grew wider.

“Tell me, Wonshik,” Jaehwan said, drawing Wonshik’s name out slowly. He made it sound filthy, somehow. “Why do you want to be a vampire? Your lover is mad, you said, mad and in custody, and your friend is— well. What exactly are you hoping to accomplish?”

Wonshik swallowed, face settling into hard lines. “It doesn’t matter, not to you.”

“It matters, because you’ve asked me to be your maker, and after tonight we’ll share a very deep bond.” Wonshik made a face, and Jaehwan chuckled. “Beggars can’t be choosers, love. Not many vamps would be willing to turn someone like you. And I can still change my mind, so. Tell me.” His voice dipped silkily, and Wonshik shivered.

“I want to free him, my lover,” Wonshik said, biting the words out. “If Hakyeon’s allowed to break the rules, then so can I. I’m not going to sit around anymore, Hongbin is still— he’s Hongbin, somewhere in there, and I want to be with him, even if this is how it has to be done.”

Jaehwan sighed heavily. “Oh, so it is a sappy reason.” He wasn’t smiling anymore. “How exactly are you planning on getting him out of his prison?”

“I have a plan,” Wonshik replied shortly. “How do I know you’re actually going to turn me? Why are you— even listening?” Wonshik wasn’t about to complain, but he hadn’t really thought Jaehwan was going to be so prone to listening, hadn’t expected him to go along with this. It had, in a way, sort of figured into his plan. Either Jaehwan would say yes and turn him, or say no and kill him. Win win situation. 

“You don’t know,” Jaehwan purred. “But like I said, beggars can’t be choosers, and I don’t like being bored. I’ve been lonely, and this all sounds very fun. A hunter turned vampire? Delicious. Doubly so since I know this is going to annoy Taekwoon. Though I must say that you will be on your own for this whole rescuing Crazy business.”

Wonshik nodded. “I didn’t expect you to stick around after I was turned.”

“I’m not going to just leave you, where’s the fun in that? Also, you wouldn’t last long, you don’t seem very bright.” Jaehwan turned his face upwards, eyes closing. “We’ll need to get started lest we run out of time.”

“How does this work?” Wonshik asked nervously, eyeing the— grave. It was a grave.

Jaehwan’s head tipped back down, his eyes pinning Wonshik with an intense stare. The movement was smooth, oily supple, and Wonshik’s wards sent out a pulse of alarm. “I have to kill you.”

Wonshik’s heart stuttered before beginning to pound. “What?” he asked dimly.

“A human must be on the cusp of death to be turned, or very freshly dead. It seems to work better if the cause of death is draining. Then, there must be an exchange, the human must be given vampire blood. They don’t need to be alive enough swallow it necessarily, the act seems to be enough. And then—” he looked to the grave, and Wonshik was able to breath again, no longer pinned by those eyes, “maker and child must lie beside one another in the earth for a day, until night comes again. Then either a new vampire will rise, or...”

“Or I’ll be a corpse, a proper one,” Wonshik finished softly. “But how exactly does it work?”

“Knowing the answers won’t help you,” Jaehwan said. He moved forward, not bothering to go at human speed, and then he was in Wonshik’s lap, nuzzling at his neck. Wonshik’s wards went off, and Jaehwan didn’t even flinch, nipping hard at Wonshik’s neck. The brush of fangs was almost too much to take.

Wonshik squeezed his eyes shut, turning his face away. There was no turning back, not now, no room to second guess. He doubted Jaehwan would even let him go. He’d just have to hope that this worked, and that Jaehwan wouldn’t simply take advantage of him and kill him. 

Wonshik blinked his eyes open and stared blankly up at the canopy of leaves above him, head lolling to the side. It had all gone so wrong. What was he even _doing_.

“You have to give me permission,” Jaehwan said breathily against his skin, interrupting his thoughts. 

Wonshik tried to bite back a sob and didn’t quite manage it. He clenched his hands together, grasping at dead leaves, and thought of Hongbin. Of his eyes, his tousled hair in the morning, about the dimple that appeared when he smiled—

“Turn me,” Wonshik gasped. “Bite me. Just— get it over with—”

Jaehwan bit down roughly at the side of Wonshik’s neck, fangs sliding into his skin easily, and Wonshik gasped. Jaehwan kept biting down, harshly, and it hurt, it hurt worse than Wonshik had thought it would, and he couldn’t hold back a little cry. His wards were frantically sending pulses out, and he tried to calm them, but he couldn’t, couldn’t concentrate enough. Jaehwan had pulled back and there was blood flowing down Wonshik’s chest and back, soaking into the collar of his shirt—

Then Jaehwan’s mouth was back over the wounds, sucking hard, swallowing. He was clutching Wonshik to him, grinding down in his lap, and Wonshik sobbed. Belatedly, Wonshik realized maybe he should have had Jaehwan glamour him, but that thought was washed away as Jaehwan bit down again, harder, in a slightly different place. Wonshik became aware he was crying.

The trees above him grew fuzzy, and the sounds of Jaehwan murdering him grew quieter, the feeling less sharp. His pulse was slowing, settling, and Wonshik was thankful. His wards were still pinging, the feeling weak and, somehow, sad. 

He wasn’t aware of closing his eyes, but then there was nothing but the gentle sound of Wonshik’s pulse in his ears, and soon even that slipped away from him, leaving only darkness and silence. 

——

Wonshik couldn’t be sure when he woke up, if he did so slowly or all at once. There seemed to be a memory, of floating, of pain, his body burning, but like a dream it slipped from him when it ceased, leaving him wondering if it had happened at all.

He truly surfaced back to consciousness when he broke free of his bed of earth, first a hand, then his shoulder, then his face. He took a deep gasp of air, and found no relief in the action, only got dirt in his mouth for it. The smell of it was pungent in the air, damp and musky, and even though he’d been fairly deeply buried he was able to climb out with little issue, standing on surprisingly steady legs. He shook his head, dirt cascading from his hair. Then he blinked around himself. 

He could see. That was the first thing he noticed. It wasn’t as bright as daylight would have been exactly, he could still tell it was dark, night, but he could see into every shadow with a sharpness he’d never had when he was human, even in the light. Everything was crystal clear. It was like Wonshik had needed glasses all his life and never known, and now he could finally _see_. 

The second thing he noticed was the silence.

It wasn't true silence. In fact, there was a lot of loudness around him. Jaehwan was moving to his right, bitching, and in the trees a bird, maybe an owl, was rusting in the leaves, and Wonshik could hear crickets chirping, almost gratingly noisy. Somewhere far off behind him there was some kind of creature snuffling as it slept, its rapid heartbeat suggesting it was a rodent. No, there was noise, but there was a jarring silence from within. 

His wards were dead. It was the only apt description. He’d had them for many years and to be left bereft of their chattering was jarring. He was anxious, full of energy, and where the pounding of his heart should have been, the sound of blood rushing in his ears, there was only stillness, silence. 

Wonshik looked down at his hands. They were still his hands. Maybe they were a little paler than they had been, the skin textured ever so slightly differently, but they were still undeniably his. “It worked,” he murmured, and the sound of his own voice was different, the way it reverberated through his chest feeling slightly alien. 

He turned to see Jaehwan half bent over, shaking his head roughly. “I have dirt in my hair,” Jaehwan griped. “But yes, it worked, congrats, you’re a vampire.”

Wonshik hadn’t been sure what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t exactly this. He’d thought there’d be more of a disconnect between himself as a vampire and his human self, thought vampires went through some personality swap. His human memories, they were there, and maybe they were a little fuzzier than they had been, but the emotions were still there, his love for Hongbin, and for Hakyeon, his despair and fear, it was all there.

He touched a hand to his neck, to the place where Jaehwan had ravaged him, and felt no wounds, of course. The memory was still unpleasant. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaehwan said, and Wonshik was able to look in his eyes for the first time without fear. “Humans can take a while to bleed out, and I wanted it to be done as quickly as possible.” Wonshik nodded shortly, and even that movement felt different, smoother, somehow. “How do you feel?”

That was an impossible question. “Hungry,” Wonshik blurted out, almost unthinkingly, and that surprised him. He thought about it. There was a hunger, it wasn’t in his stomach, wasn’t really a feeling that had any root in his physical self. It was more like a pull, an intangible compulsion. He _needed_ to feed it. It eclipsed his urge to do anything else, even to free Hongbin. He had to take care of the hunger first, his body told him. 

So, this was the bloodlust. He’d thought it’d be worse, but he got the impression that it could be overwhelming, if left unattended. It was like a monster lurking in the corner. 

Jaehwan smiled wryly. “Yes, of course. I forget how much newborns need to feed. Come, we’ll take care of that now, before it takes too much of a hold and you get twitchy.” He turned and flit away. Were Wonshik still human he wouldn’t have seen it.

Wonshik paused. Taking care of the hunger meant killing someone, draining them of their blood, their life. It was the one part of all this he’d avoided thinking about, because it was awful. He’d seen those bodies, those empty husks with their ravaged flesh, and now, he knew what it felt like to die at the hands of a vampire. 

When he’d been human, the very idea of feeding off blood had been repulsive, and the idea of using a human for food absolutely horrific. Now, he couldn’t summon up those emotions. He could remember having them, knew they were what he should be feeling now, but it was like there was a thick pane of fogged glass between himself and those feelings, blocked off and muffled by the craving inside him. They didn’t matter. Satiating the hunger mattered. 

Wonshik took off after Jaehwan, the motion of running so smooth it felt almost like he was flying, effortlessly carried by the wind. His laughter echoed through the trees, sounding utterly inhuman.

——

Wonshik lost three nights to the hunger.

Perhaps “lost” wasn’t the right term, seeing as he remembered most of that time, so the minutes, hours, he hadn’t lost. Rather, for three nights he lost himself.

He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened. He was fine, and then he wasn’t, the monster looming in the corner crowded out all other thought, eclipsing all vestiges of his self, until he was just left with the pull, the craving, unable to focus on anything else. It was like something else had control of his body, some foreign entity, but once he came down he knew it had been himself, driven mad by something out of his control. The bloodlust had filled every corner of him, sinking into his bones, and for three nights he understood Hongbin’s madness. 

And he fed it. Jaehwan had had to do most of the hunting, Wonshik too gone to have any subtlety. Even in his haze, Wonshik felt a sort of dim horror over it all, but he hadn’t been able to pause, hadn’t been able to think. All he could do was consume.

And then it receded. Without the need pressing on him he returned to himself, waking on his fourth night as a vampire for the first time finally feeling like himself again — though the hunger still loomed in the corner of his mind. 

He wondered if he’d ever be able to taste anything in his mouth besides blood ever again.

“I should have warned you about that,” Jaehwan said simply, when the two of them were sitting at his wooden table in his kitchen, a small, simple room. The simplest one in Jaehwan’s entire dwelling. 

Jaehwan lived deep underground, beneath a section of downtown, his apartment of a sort rather larger than Wonshik had expected, and rather more human as well. It had several bedrooms, with beds, and bathrooms as well, though the toilets went unused. The decorating, on the other hand, was precisely what Wonshik would have pictured: tacky, dramatic, and gothic. Dracula would be proud. 

At least there weren’t any coffins.

“New vamps often go on binges,” Jaehwan continued. “A consequence of the energy expended in turning. It shouldn’t happen again, so long as you continue feeding as often as you should be.”

Wonshik sipped at his blood bag pensively. It was the kind blood banks had, and Wonshik wondered how exactly Jaehwan had gotten ahold of it. He had a storage of them in his fridge. When Wonshik had gotten up, Jaehwan had poked a little hole in one and shoved a straw into it like it was a Capri Sun. Wonshik, dimly, remembered Jaehwan feeding him others, when he’d been on his binge. They hadn’t helped as much as having a living, breathing—

“It didn’t feel like I thought it would,” Wonshik said softly. He didn’t have the words for it. It was a desperation, most certainly, a madness, but the nature of it was odd. He couldn’t absorb anything, he registered things happening, but they all got shoved away. He had been able to remember himself as if through a fog, but it was all out of reach for the most part, every memory, every emotion had slipped away like water cupped in Wonshik’s palms. 

He’d thought it would just be a sort of incessant drumming in his mind for blood, a physical hunger that drove him to distraction. But it wasn’t. It was something deeper, something far more insidious and potent. Blood, human blood, satisfied the craving, even if the craving itself wasn’t necessarily _for_ blood. Which it wasn’t. But it satiated the need, and that was all that mattered. It was a relief to drink. 

Jaehwan was silent, and when Wonshik looked at him he saw he was busy poking into another blood bag for himself. So far, that was the only thing Wonshik had seen him eat. Nights of hunting, and every human Jaehwan had glamoured into a dark alley he’d given to Wonshik. Every one. And then afterwards they’d come back, here, to this dimly lit underground dwelling that looked like something off a badly budgeted horror film. And Wonshik would be cleaned up. If he had enough of his faculties working, he’d do it himself, but most of the times Jaehwan had wiped him down, and put him to bed. The past three nights were a blur of feeding and sleeping. Wonshik was fairly content to let them remain a blur, wasn’t about to go examining the specific memories too closely.

“What exactly is the craving for?” Wonshik asked, to take his mind off the nightmare he’d just woken up from. He’d brought this upon himself, he’d done this willingly. The ultimate taboo, and he’d broken it. Now that the ice had melted and he was dealing with the reality of what he’d done, Wonshik, briefly, wondered what exactly he’d been thinking, but then remembered he really hadn’t been. He’d been— fractured, his mind had shattered, and you could glue things back together but that didn’t mean they were fixed. They could never be the same.

He wasn’t shattered now. At least, not in the same way. He was, somewhere inside him, horrified over everything, not just what he’d done over the last few days, but also seeking out being turned in the first place. But he pushed that down, let the hunger swallow it, because there was no going back, there wasn’t, all he could to now was try not to think about anything too hard, go forward, and make this nightmare worth it.

 _Just keep going, Wonshik_ , a voice inside him whispered. _Just keep going_.

Jaehwan took a sip of his blood and gave a half shrug. “Magic,” he said after he swallowed. “That’s the best guess. We don’t need to eat or drink as humans do, our bodies run on something different. Blood. Human blood. But we aren’t really getting nutrition from it. Human blood has a sort of— a zing. And it’s that zing that powers us. That’s what the craving wants.” He took another sip. “Without it, we lose ourselves, we deteriorate. Our bodies weaken and we lose touch with our— our minds. You still had some pieces of yourself, as I am sure you remember.”

Wonshik nodded. Yes. He had. He’d had enough remnants to feel guilty about all the lives he was taking— but he didn’t want to go down that road. Not now. It was done. He would leave it all a blur.

“Thank you,” Wonshik said softly. “For— thank you.” He wasn’t going to thank Jaehwan for assisting him in murder; rather he was thanking him for looking out for Wonshik, taking care of him. He wasn't fully sure why Jaehwan was bothering, when they were virtually strangers still, bond or no.

Jaehwan made a sharp motion with his hand. “I didn’t want you losing your mind. When we don’t get blood, our selves, our personalities, slip further away, buried underneath the need. When we lose touch, when the fog gets too thick, we become someone else entirely.”

Wonshik drained his bag, and Jaehwan handed him another. There was condensation on it, because it was cold. “Are you— are you hinting about Hongbin?”

“I was trying to educate you on why you shouldn’t try to go all noble and attempt to starve yourself, because I can see you’re the type, but I suppose it could be relevant to your boyfriend as well.” 

Wonshik— yes, he was the type. But he knew, in his silent heart, that that was counter productive. He couldn’t save Hongbin if he was mad, couldn’t make this crazy venture worth all the blood he’d already spilled if he just gave up. He’d made his bed and now he had to lie in it. 

Jaehwan reached over and poked a straw into Wonshik’s bag for him, and Wonshik sipped at it sullenly as Jaehwan resumed speaking. “It’s been so long for him— I can’t imagine it. It’s hard to say what kind of state he’s in. The craving has seeped in, no doubt, and he hasn’t been himself in many months, I am sure. He probably can’t even remember who he was at this point. He’s lost.”

Wonshik felt a prickling behind his eyes, but tears wouldn’t come. It was odd. Maybe vampires couldn’t cry. He hadn’t had room to really think about Hongbin these past few nights, not with the hunger. But the emotion was still there, bubbling to the surface now that it had the space to. He almost felt it more strongly now. “I still have to try to save him. Even if he’s— gone. I can’t let him suffer in that little room anymore.” He couldn’t leave him alone, driven mad by that awful hunger, couldn’t let all of this be for nothing.

Jaehwan blinked. “Oh, I didn’t mean— I don’t think he’s gone. It’s only been a year. I mean right now, if you spoke to him, he legitimately wouldn’t recognize you. He wouldn’t know his own name, because everything outside the craving is fuzzy. He’s most likely sort of like a very hungry toddler, that level of complexity and intelligence. But like, with you, if he gets blood — and a lot of it, Wonshik, I am not talking about a three night bender, I am talking about potentially months of multiple people a night — chances are he’ll resurface eventually. Most likely.”

Hope. Wonshik needed hope, and yet he was afraid to reach for it. He hadn’t even retrieved Hongbin yet, and he was so afraid he might not succeed. And if they did— Wonshik swallowed. One step at a time. “Why can’t we survive on these?” Wonshik asked, brandishing the blood bag. It would make everything so much easier. 

“They help, definitely, they can keep the craving at bay somewhat, but they don’t have as much of the— er—”

“Zing.”

“Yeah. Eventually, you’ll need to feed off a human. I’m older so I can get away with only feeding properly once a month, maybe even less. But you and Crazy will need to work up to that.” 

Wonshik deflated, a little, and tried to push the disappointment aside. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to feeding on people, but he needed to come to terms with it, he _needed_ to, if he was going to get through this. He was vampire, now, and there were prices to be paid for that, prices to be paid for being reunited with Hongbin. Even if it meant that he had to— do awful things. 

A long time ago he’d been given a brief lesson on magic, when he’d first started in with the hunters. It was important that he understood the recoil, as well as how wards worked, both the ones that were going to be inked onto his skin and all the others. The wards protected him, but they took bits of him, bits of energy, to do so. It all had to be pulled from somewhere. If one hunter saved another, it was important that debt be repaid, lest the scales go unbalanced. Every action had a reaction, he learned. Nothing was free, nothing could be free. 

This was his price. Blood on his hands. Blood in his mouth.

Jaehwan was staring at him, unusually solemn. “Are you sure you still want to save him, knowing now what must be done?”

“Yes, I— it’s why I did any of this.” It felt like so long ago, that he’d made the decision. It was part of who he was now. He’d completely altered the course of his future, changed his very being. And he’d done it for Hongbin, so they had a chance. Because they hadn’t had a future when Wonshik was human, so he’d become vampire. “I need to try,” Wonshik whispered.

Jaehwan sighed heavily. He wasn’t what Wonshik had expected at all. Talkative, social, dramatic, none of these things were very vampire-like. Also an insufferable, annoying know it all, but Wonshik appreciated the wealth of information he had to offer.

Jaehwan had kept him from getting caught, had made sure he made it back underground before the sun came back up. He complained about it a lot, but he’d kept Wonshik alive, or the vampire equivalent. He’d helped him get the blood he needed, helped guide him back into sanity. Wonshik expected him to get fed up and turn him out, but it was looking like that might not happen.

“You’re not what I thought you’d be, you know,” Wonshik said. “None of this is like what I expected.” He’d spent years as a hunter, thinking vampires were monsters. The ones he’d encountered— they’d certainly seemed so. But he didn’t feel like one, exactly, was still himself, and Jaehwan, predatory as he was, had shown he was capable of some sort of kindness, of empathy. 

Maybe Wonshik had condemned Hakyeon too harshly. Maybe Elimias retained more of their humanity than anyone realized. 

Or maybe the other shoe just hadn’t dropped yet.

“I know, I am far more gallant and dashing than you pictured,” Jaehwan said sagely, and Wonshik threw his first empty blood bag at him. He squawked indignantly. 

A thought occurred to Wonshik. “Is Taekwoon like you?” he asked, curious.

“Ew, no, he’s a boor,” Jaehwan said. “Serious and sulky. But he fucks like a dream.” Wonshik made a face, and Jaehwan grinned. “Ah, yes, we haven’t had the talk, what a negligent parent I am. Well, in my defense, you haven’t been very chatty. Yes, vampires can have sex. Once the bloodlust settles, that urge should come back. That is, if you don’t overfeed it.” Wonshik cocked his head to the side, knowing he didn’t need to verbally ask a question for Jaehwan to answer it. “If you overfeed the craving it gets bigger. There’s a balance to walk. Gorging yourself unnecessarily is dangerous. At least, if you want to become an Elimia like me, which I assumed you did. Hunter morals and all.” He rolled his eyes.

Wonshik nodded. “So you and Taekwoon, were, uh, lovers? Did he get tired of your whining and ditch you? Is that why you turned me, to make him jealous?”

Jaehwan was making the most wonderful stankface, and Wonshik was proud. He wasn't sure why, maybe it was because Jaehwan was his maker, that would make a lot of sense, but he felt a fondness for him. Even if he was annoying. “No,” Jaehwan sniffed, highly indignant. “I _told_ you, I don’t like being bored. And a hunter turned vampire breaking out another vampire from a hunter’s prison? I can’t wait to see the fallout, provided you succeed. And I’ve missed having company. Taekwoon left five years ago. The fact that you’re friends with his, er, whatever, is just icing on the cake.” He slit a glare at Wonshik. “We weren’t lovers. We’re— there’s no human word for it. Brothers? Of a sort. We shared a maker.”

Wonshik blinked. “Oh.” He sipped at his second blood bag, draining it in several huge gulps. He sensed he needed more blood, and not of the bagged variety. “I think I need to feed properly.” It was hard to say that aloud, but he needed to do what he needed to do. Though he was a little worried for more than the very obvious reasons. The moment he’d tasted blood for the first time it had sent him on a spiral, and then he’d lost himself for three nights. He was, slightly, afraid it was going to happen again. 

“I expected you would,” Jaehwan said simply. “Come my child, into the night.”

“Will I—” Wonshik asked haltingly. “Will I relapse, do you think?” Knowing he was going to go out tonight and take one life was— that was hard enough to face. He didn’t want to take more.

Jaehwan’s eyes softened. “No, I don’t think so.”

Wonshik took a shuddery breath, out of habit, and let Jaehwan lead him out of the apartment, up the concrete staircase, and into the moonlight.


	3. Chapter 3

The water by Wonshik’s feet swirled pink as it made its way toward the drain. Wonshik opened his mouth, letting the spray from the showerhead rinse the blood off his tongue. It had been a woman tonight, scraggly and foul tasting from drug abuse. Jaehwan always wrinkled his nose at Wonshik’s choices, but Wonshik couldn’t bring himself to nab someone who wasn’t already on a speedy path towards the grave. Not when he wasn’t in the throes of the bloodlust, anyway. The guilt was already crushing as it was.

He leaned against the shower wall, the tile a cold contrast to the steaming water, and thought of everything that had brought him to this point, thought of Hongbin. It calmed him some, the ache in his chest outweighing the guilt. Fuck, Wonshik missed him.

It was time. Three weeks had passed, and Wonshik hadn’t had another relapse into the hunger like he had on his first few nights as a vampire. Jaehwan actually commended him on his control. It wasn’t control, it was guilt, but whatever the root of it was, it meant Wonshik was able to keep his head when hunting, for the most part. And he fed once a night, like clockwork, and then drank from blood bags periodically through the rest of night. He was determined to master this as best he could, even if it meant feeding every night. It was important, if he wanted to succeed.

He turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and walking out of the bathroom into his bedroom. It was gothically, elaborately decorated, though not quite as lavishly as Jaehwan’s bedroom was, nor the living room, with its coffee table that had legs shaped like dragon talons, a mantlepiece encrusted with semi-precious stones. According to Jaehwan, this had been his maker’s residence, and it was his maker that had done the decorating. Even so, it seemed to suit Jaehwan just fine. Wonshik, not so much. 

He strode to the dresser, a cherrywood monstrosity, and pulled open the top drawer. A week ago they’d gone to the hovel Wonshik had rented aboveground, snagging what few possessions Wonshik had brought with him. The clothes could all fit in two drawers. Eventually, they’d have to go back to his proper apartment. Eventually.

Hongbin’s stake sat atop the dresser, the only ornament Wonshik hadn’t taken and shoved into the armoire. He didn’t need to look at ugly statues of goblins or grotesque goblets, really, what was Jaehwan thinking. Wonshik stared at the stake for a couple of beats before pulling a clean t-shirt, jeans, and boxers out of the drawer, shutting it a little too roughly afterwards. 

As he dressed he thought about the surreality of all this. He was a vamp now, and while a lot of it was because Hongbin had been turned, some of it was because of his friendship with Hakyeon. He hadn’t really thought much about Hakyeon since after that change, but it was almost comical, looking back, that after everything that had happened, he and Taekwoon were what had finally snapped Wonshik. 

Wonshik knew on some level that Hakyeon must be worried about him. He’d been missing without a trace for so long, that Hakyeon probably thought he was dead. And he probably thought it was his fault. Yes, Hakyeon had been the final straw, but he didnt deserve to live with that sort of guilt on his back. Wonshik didn’t want that. 

If Wonshik survived the night, he’d have to square things with Hakyeon, eventually. He missed him, in a dim sort of way, even after what had happened. It hadn’t been Hakyeon’s fault, not really. He couldn’t have predicted what it would do to Wonshik. _Wonshik_ hadn’t predicted this level of madness. It was, as he’d said, surreal. 

He had, in a simple summary, found out his best friend was lovers with a vampire and gone crazy and turned himself. It was ridiculous. All of it was ridiculous, looking back. What a thing to finally push Wonshik over the edge, what a thing to do.

Wonshik scrubbed his hands over his face, laughing weakly. It was done, whatever the catalyst was, it was done. There was no taking it back, no matter how fucking over dramatic and crazy of a decision it had been. And now, finally, all the ice fully melted, his mind clear for the first time in over a year, Wonshik could see very distinctly that it had been over the top and ludacris. 

_Just keep going_ , he thought. 

Once he was dressed, the water scrubbed out of his hair and the strands brushed, he went searching for Jaehwan, and found him in the living room, sprawled across the heinous maroon velvet sofa. 

“Oh good, you’re alive, I thought you’d drowned,” Jaehwan said.

Wonshik inhaled deeply, smelling blood and cloves. “I want to get Hongbin tonight.”

Jaehwan blinked, slowly standing up. “Do you think you’re ready?”

“Yes,” Wonshik said simply. He walked to the kitchen, plucking a blood bag from the fridge and stabbing a straw into it. When he looked up he saw Jaehwan had followed him, a sour expression on his face. “What?” Wonshik asked, once he’d swallowed.

Jaehwan’s mouth twisted unhappily. “I just think you’re going to get staked. And we’ve been together so short a time.” He sighed heavily. “You’re going to leave me here all alone,” he said mournfully. 

Wonshik snorted. “I became a vamp solely for the purpose of getting Hongbin out. Don’t tell me you’re going to try to talk me out of it.” He narrowed his eyes at Jaehwan. “Besides, you’re not actually torn up at the idea of me dying, you just don’t want to go back to being alone.”

Jaehwan seemed indignant. “I’ll feel it if you get staked. It will not be pleasant for me. You are my— we are bound. I _told_ you that,” he sniffed. “But no, I am not going to try to stop you, it is your choice to make. What is your plan?”

Wonshik shrugged. “Go in, get Hongbin, get out.” He drained his blood bag, reaching for another, as Jaehwan stared at him in what Wonshik rather thought was horrified silence.

“That’s it?” Jaehwan finally asked, somewhat strangled. “All the hard work I have done to keep you alive these last few weeks, all the effort— wasted.” He plopped dramatically into a seat at the dining table. “Oh, you’re breaking my silent heart.”

“It’s not as bad of an idea as it sounds,” Wonshik snapped, though deep down, he knew it still wasn’t a _good_ idea. 

“How are you going to get in? Surely there’s— spells and wards in place, especially to keep our kind out. And then even if you do get in, how will you get through the place without someone seeing you and setting off the alarm?” 

Wonshik sipped at his second bag. “There are spells and things, but not what you might expect. We haven’t got a Push on the place, because we do bring vamps in from time to time and it wouldn’t do for a Push to drive them out of their minds.” _We just starve them to madness, instead_. “The place is under a Lost, but there’s nothing vampire specific to keep them out. I should be able to get to it just fine. There are wards on the door, and those will be... tricky. But I’ll manage.”

Jaehwan had placed his elbows on the table, fingers interlaced so he could rest his chin on them. “And then what? Run down to your lover, and tear the heads off anyone who gets in your way? Your old friends? Will you be able to control yourself at the sight of fresh human blood?”

Wonshik flinched, brought his blood bag up to take another sip. Don’t think about it. “I am hoping to not run into anyone at all. There’s been a lot of vamp activity in that city lately, you know that.” After the VCF had taken out the east end nest, there had been quiet and peace for quite a while. The vamps had gone underground and laid low, frightened, and the hunters and VCF were riding high. But inevitably, the loss of the nest changed the vamp hierarchy within the city. It made the loner vamps go at each other, all trying to prove themselves the new biggest and baddest. Then other vamps had begun to migrate in, filling up the empty spaces the nest had left. This lead to even more turf wars, more dead humans. Wonshik knew everyone was afraid that the vamps might divide into nests, temporary alliances, just to take one another out. More shit they didn’t need. 

“And?” Jaehwan prompted.

“They’ve probably got every able hunter out in the field,” Wonshik said. He looked at the clock on the wall, which told him it was just after midnight. “HQ is already pretty empty around two or three in the morning, but with the city in the state it’s in, they probably have even most of the trainees in the field.” Wonshik thought of Sanghyuk, a brief flash, and pushed it aside. “I’ll avoid the few people there and— get Hongbin out.”

“And if they aren’t all gone?” Jaehwan asked silkily, getting to his feet smoothly and stepping into Wonshik’s personal space. “Will you be able to kill them, Wonshik? Even the ones you used to call friends?” Wonshik looked away from Jaehwan’s eyes, down at the first button on his shirt. The thought was horrific. “You are not one of them anymore. They will not see their friend come home, they will see a vampire, and they will try to kill you. You must kill them first.”

Wonshik nodded, somewhat sullen. Jaehwan was right, to a degree. It had all gone so wrong, everything upside down and backwards. Even though every moment Wonshik was reminded he was a vampire now, the lack of heartbeat, the hunger — for fuck’s sake he was drinking blood out of a baggie — it still hadn’t fully sunk in. It was hard to think of himself that way. Hard to remember that vampires weren't the _others_ anymore. He was an other now.

He knew they would try to kill him. Most of them, anyway. Maybe he was naive, but he didn’t believe— “You’re right,” Wonshik whispered.

Jaehwan sighed. “I am, but you won’t do it. You’re still soft, even though you try so hard to be sharp.” He walked away, calling over his shoulder, “I have something that may be able to help. Come.”

Wonshik followed Jaehwan down the hall, and into Jaehwan’s room, which was apparently Jaehwan’s deceased maker’s room. It was the most lavish room in the place, the bed a giant four poster thing, larger than any bed Wonshik had ever seen, the blankets and pillows dyed a deep navy with gold brocade. Jaehwan strode over to a tall wooden cabinet with two vertical doors, pulling them open to reveal rows of slim drawers. There was a strange sort of chattering coming from them.

While he rummaged through them, Wonshik looked around, at the decorating. Every piece of furniture was carved, polished, much of it encrusted with jewels. Really, Jaehwan’s maker must have robbed several tacky kings in his lifetime. Or eaten them. Or eaten them and then robbed them. 

Jaehwan began talking as he searched through the drawers. “If you do manage to get to your boyfriend, he will be quite weak, which will help you greatly. Even so, the bloodlust might make him, to put it lightly, uncooperative, especially if he senses a human nearby.”

“I figured that,” Wonshik muttered, prodding at an ugly statue of a serpent.

Jaehwan slammed a drawer shut and opened another. “Yes, well, you can use your own blood as a deterrent. Vampire blood is— it isn’t as good as human blood, but the sight of it should distract Crazy, enough to lure him away from causing trouble.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to bring along actual human blood? We have plenty of blood bags.”

“Dead blood in a plastic baggie does not have the appeal that blood streaming from an open vein has. Even though the human blood, bagged as it is, would probably satiate him more, it wouldn’t distract him, really.”

“Duly noted,” Wonshik replied. 

He didn’t have much time to think on that little tidbit of knowledge, because then Jaehwan was softly saying, “Ah.” He held up an amulet of some sort on a golden chain. He approached Wonshik, the chain slung over his fingers. The amulet was a flat round piece, also gold, some inscription on it Wonshik couldn’t read, and a deep red gem in the middle. Jaehwan tossed the chain over Wonshik’s head, and the amulet glowed warm for a moment, seeming to rustle, getting itself comfortable, and then settled down into silence. It was strange, having a ward against him, when he’d spent the last few weeks without one. 

“What is it?” Wonshik asked, picking the disk up to look more closely at the gem. He’d thought it was a ruby, or a garnet, maybe, he didn't really know his stones, but it didn’t seem so. It didn’t seem like rock. It looked sticky, somehow, liquid, but when he touched it, it was definitely solid and very smooth, polished. 

“It’s charmed with a Repel, aimed at humans,” Jaehwan said, snagging the amulet out of Wonshik’s hand and tucking it into his shirt. Wonshik blinked in surprise. He’d only ever heard of Repels being aimed at vampires, but of course a human equivalent would exist. “It’s a subtle one, and can only do so much. It will help though. If you go down one staircase, the humans in the area will feel like going down another, that sort of thing. But if you are in a room, and a human needs to go into that room specifically, or if there is a staircase they must take and you are there, it will not stop them. So be careful.”

“Thank you, Jaehwan,” Wonshik said sincerely. The amulet was comforting, resting against Wonshik’s sternum.

“I want it back,” Jaehwan said, frowning, “so don’t get staked.”

“I’ll try,” Wonshik whispered.

——

The city was the same as it had been when Wonshik left, all those weeks ago, and yet everything was different to his new senses. He and Jaehwan prowled through the shadows, Wonshik leading the way. He wasn’t as fluid about it as Jaehwan, who almost seemed intangible as he flit from shadow to shadow. Wonshik hadn’t really expected him to come along, but he had, saying that Wonshik might need him to help wrangle Hongbin once he was out on the streets. 

Wonshik wasn’t aware of the precise moment Jaehwan lost him, but as the HQ building, a dilapidated four story townhouse, came into view, he realized he was alone. Of course, with the Lost on the place, Jaehwan wouldn't be able to follow him all the way to the door, but Wonshik hadn’t expected him to get thrown off by it so early on. He hoped Jaehwan stayed somewhere close and didn’t try to wander about. 

The lamp light seemed bright, too bright, so Wonshik relied on his hearing to tell him if there was anyone approaching. He could hear a heartbeat, but it was so faint, it must be blocks away. He stuck to the shadows anyway as he approached the door, ordinary, wooden, plain so the people who walked down this street every day wouldn’t give it a second glance. 

Wonshik reached out, bracing himself, and touched his fingertips to the door knob. Nothing happened, and he exhaled, the human reaction nearly making him smile. He grasped the knob and pulled the door open.

The inside of the townhouse had been ransacked long ago. It was empty, the paint on the walls moldy and peeling. He went through the entrance hall, heading to the coat closet. Before he opened the door he listened, and there was the slight creaking of the house around him as it cooled, the quick pitter pattering of a mouse’s heart, but he couldn’t hear any human. He opened the door, and instead of a closet was greeted with a staircase that led down, with a light at the bottom showing the warded security door into HQ. He could feel the spellwork from here, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to touch that door. Not from the outside, anyway.

Wonshik growled, unaware he was even doing it. He reached into his pocket, fishing out his phone and turning it on for the first time since the night he’d discovered Hakyeon and Taekwoon together. This— he’d hoped he wouldn’t have to do this.

The number was dialed and the call sent before Wonshik could think twice about it. This was what needed to be done.

“Wonshik?” Sanghyuk’s voice came crackling over the phone’s speaker, young and guileless. 

“Yeah,” Wonshik said, hoping the shitty connection would disguise the way his voice had changed, “it’s me.”

“Oh my god,” Sanghyuk gasped out, “oh my god, Wonshik, holy shit—”

“Listen to me,” Wonshik said, barking out the order, and Sanghyuk shut up, like he knew he would. Fuck, this hurt. “Keep it down, it’s important that— that no one know.”

“What’s going on? Have you been on a mission? Undercover?” Sanghyuk asked, but his voice was lowered to a whisper now, tightly restrained. “We thought you were dead.”

Wonshik laughed. “Not exactly,” he murmured, then added quickly, “Where are you?”

“I’m at HQ, training,” Sanghyuk said immediately.

“With Hakyeon?” Wonshik asked, somewhat sharper than he’d meant.

Wonshik sensed that Sanghyuk shook his head. “No, alone. There’s a couple other trainees here, but pretty much every official agent is out on the streets, patrolling. Haven’t you heard about all the vamp activity lately?”

“Yeah,” Wonshik said, feeling like a monster for what was about to come out of his mouth. “Listen, can you come meet me? Say at— at that burger joint down the road from HQ? I need to talk to you.”

“Yes!” Sanghyuk said readily. “Yes, I’ll be there, just give me like, five or ten minutes. Fuck,” he laughed a little, “I was worried about you Wonshik.”

“I’m sorry, kid,” Wonshik said softly, meaning it down to his bones. He hung up, stepping into the stairwell and flitting down to the door. It had a thick barrier of energy around it, and Wonshik hissed at it unhappily. 

It didn’t take long before Wonshik could, ever so faintly, hear footsteps approaching through the thick metal and spellwork, a pounding heart. The door beeped when the person on the other side — Wonshik, somehow, could sense it was Sanghyuk — got clearance, and then the door was swinging open, the spells parting. Wonshik leaped forward, slithering past Sanghyuk and into HQ proper. 

Sanghyuk whirled, shrieking, because the last thing the poor kid probably expected was to be greeted by a vamp slipping past him into fucking vampire hunter headquarters. The door slammed shut behind Wonshik with a bang, and Sanghyuk was still screaming, all training apparently forgotten. Wonshik reached forward and slapped a hand over Sanghyuk’s mouth, but the moment he made contact Sanghyuk’s wards blasted him, and wow, yeah, that hurt. 

Wonshik stumbled back, onto his knees, and his joints felt stiff, limbs suddenly weak. His fucking hand felt like it must be charred, but it was undamaged. He rather thought sticking it into a pot of boiling water would’ve hurt less. 

“Oh my god,” Sanghyuk was gasping, but at least he wasn't shrieking anymore. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, oh fuck, oh fuck oh Wonshik, you’re a— a _vampire_ —” He clapped his hands over his mouth, backing up until he hit the nearest wall. He screamed again, but this time it was muffled in his hands. 

“Sanghyuk—” Wonshik said, voice coming out weaker than he’d wanted. Fuck. Being on the receiving end of a ward going off was utterly shit. 

There were tears in Sanghyuk’s eyes, the only part of his face Wonshik could see above his hands. “What happened? Wonshik, why—”

“Listen,” Wonshik bit out, but Sanghyuk was seemingly nearing a panic attack.

“You’re a fucking vampire!” Sanghyuk cried, hands falling away from his face and tears beginning to roll. His heart was pounding so fast, breath rushing into his lungs as he gasped. 

“I _know_ ,” Wonshik said, struggling back to his feet. He wanted to shake Sanghyuk, but his hand still felt like it was on fire. “Fuck, Sanghyuk, I know.”

That got the kid to shut up, though he was still crying, trembling visibly, and looking at Wonshik like— fuck, like he was afraid Wonshik was going to hurt him. “What did you do?” Sanghyuk whispered. 

“I’m— I’m not here to hurt you,” Wonshik said. “Sanghyuk, kiddo, it’s still me.” Sanghyuk shook his head, face the picture of despair. “I don’t have time to explain. I’m here for Hongbin.”

Sanghyuk’s eyes widened. “You can’t—”

“I have to, it’s why I—” Wonshik cut himself off. “I have to, Sanghyuk, and I don’t expect— I don’t expect you to be okay with this, with any of it, but please, please let me do this. I’m still me— I’m still—” Wonshik didn’t know how to finish that thought. “Are you going to try to stop me? Are you going to raise the alarm?”

Sanghyuk sobbed, a little. “No. They’ll kill you, if they catch you. You need to get out of here.”

Wonshik’s heart ached. “I need to get Hongbin first. I am so sorry for this, Sanghyuk, for everything.”

“Oh, Wonshik,” Sanghyuk gasped, tears dripping off his chin. “How could you? Just— you’re— you’re like a brother to me— I—” He choked, chest hitching on a sob. “Go. Go, before someone comes. I can’t help— please, don’t ask me to—”

“I won’t,” Wonshik said hurriedly, “but you need to hide. Hongbin— just hide, somewhere, not on this floor, not near the cells or any of the staircases.” He could feel the effect of Sanghyuk’s wards fading, his limbs regaining strength. “Thank you, Sanghyuk. I’m sorry.” He felt like he couldn't say it enough.

“Be careful,” Sanghyuk moaned, and Wonshik ran.

He could hear so much, his feet making no noise. HQ was very empty, the heartbeats Wonshik could hear were so few he could distinguish each one separately, making them easy to avoid. He took the side stairwell anyway, just in case, the amulet around his neck silent. The lights, which had been annoyingly dim when he was human, seemed far too bright now, but it didn’t matter, he knew the way by heart. 

He didn’t let himself think of Sanghyuk as he flitted down the stairs, the suppleness finally returned to his joints. He was vampire now, immortal, and he knew the guilt of what he’d done would never leave him. But right now he couldn’t afford to be distracted.

It took barely any time to get to the security door that led into the wards. It wasn't spelled, just automated, which Wonshik had known, otherwise this would have been very tricky. As it was he swiped his keycard into the slot, going still as he waited. It was accepted, the finger pad lighting up, and he pressed his right forefinger onto it. Another precious few seconds lost to waiting, and he was nervous now, because, surely, his fingerprint was the same, even if his skin was different—

The door beeped and clicked, the little light on the keypad turning from red to green, and Wonshik grasped the handle and pulled. It smelled— different to him now, as he ran through the halls. He could smell the pig’s blood, slightly, could smell the scent of other vampires. 

The section of the wards that held Hongbin was still empty except for its single occupant. Wonshik stared at the door of Hongbin’s cell, familiar and yet strange. He could see grooves and scratches his humans eyes hadn’t been able to, and more than that, he could see the warding, but — and now Wonshik laughed — it was on the wrong side of the door. These cells were made to keep vampires in, not out.

Hongbin had been shuffling in his cell, the sounds faint, but at the sound of Wonshik’s voice he stilled, completely. That was odd, since usually he was inclined to scream, or laugh, or hurl himself at the door. Maybe he could sense Wonshik was a vampire, wasn't food anymore. It would make this easier.

Wonshik approached the door, feeling like the air had thickened, like he was walking through water. If he’d been alive, his heart would be pounding. As it was, the silence was almost just as loud.

The doors of the cells had no locks, really, they just had mechanisms that latched from the outside. Wonshik grabbed the lever, pulling it, and the latch grated, a terrible metallic noise, as it moved. 

The door swung outwards with a loud shriek of the hinges. Hongbin hissed, a completely inhuman noise, as the light from the hallway hit him, dim and watery as it was. Wonshik’s chest hitched, why, he wasn't sure, since he wasn't breathing. 

Wonshik hadn’t seen Hongbin since the night he’d found him screaming on his doorstep, a freshly turned vampire. That image was still seared in his mind. He hadn’t been able to approach the door and open the little slot, to peek into Hongbin’s prison and see him like that. It had hurt too much, and every time Wonshik had gotten too close to the door anyway Hongbin had started screaming and thrashing, the scent of the blood in Wonshik’s veins too much of a temptation. 

So Wonshik had only listened and stared at the door. But he wasn’t human anymore, and everything was different now. 

Hongbin’s hair was overgrown, curling slightly as it was wont to do, and he looked very thin, gaunt, wearing the pale blue uniform they’d put him in all those months ago. It hung off him now. But it was still him, still—

Hongbin threw himself at Wonshik, but considering how loud the bangs were when he would throw himself at the door, the impact was quite weak. Wonshik grabbed his shoulders, and Hongbin’s hands came up, grasping at Wonshik’s forearms. He was leaning heavily on Wonshik, stumbling, slightly. Wonshik realized that Hongbin was very weak, and he caught sight of the silver cuffs on Hongbin’s wrists, knowing he had them around his ankles as well. The skin wasn’t smoking, but that might just be because the cuffs had been on so long, and Wonshik could tell they’d worn away at his skin. 

“Hongbin,” Wonshik said, voice trembling. Hongbin looked up at him, and he was so thin, cheekbones sharp, his eyes unfocused. Wonshik moved his hands so he could grasp at Hongbin’s face, cupping his cheeks. Wonshik didn’t really know how to glamour very well yet, and he didn't think vamps even could be glamoured, but he was willing Hongbin to fucking look in his eyes. “Hongbin, dearest, please—”

Hongbin seemed to focus, something in his face shifting, like he was absorbing what he was seeing, somewhat. His hands left Wonshik’s forearms, coming up to cup Wonshik’s face, mimicking Wonshik’s actions. He said something, then. It was utter gibberish, and Wonshik sobbed, moving so he could crush Hongbin to him. He smelled like blood and damp earth and underneath that, like home.

Hongbin wiggled weakly, and Wonshik pulled back, and saw Hongbin was reaching past him, for the light, for freedom. “Yes,” Wonshik said, spine stiffening as he remembered where they were, “we’re going out.”

“Out,” Hongbin repeated, and then giggled as Wonshik took his hand and led him into the hall. He stumbled a lot, so weak, but when Wonshik tried to pick him up he squawked so loudly that Wonshik had immediately put him down. 

“You need to be quiet,” Wonshik said, and Hongbin blinked at him uncomprehendingly. Wonshik put his finger to his lips, and Hongbin mimicked the motion, giggling again. Wonshik sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy.

They moved quietly, but once they were in the stairwell, every little sound echoed, feeling loud to Wonshik’s keen ears. Progress was slow, Hongbin faltering, but he never stopped. He was looking up, instead of where he was stepping, and Wonshik couldn't blame him. Out. He wanted out. All Wonshik could do was hold his hand and lead the way, and listen for anyone coming. He didn’t dare try to pick him up again, not here, not where it would echo through the building. 

“Come on,” he whispered encouragingly, “you can do it, a little faster, hm? You don’t want to get put back in the cell.”

Hongbin mumbled something in reply, and three more steps later they made it to the second level landing. One more flight of stairs, just one more, and then they’d be on the first basement level, and then they’d need to haul ass back to the outside door—

Hongbin had stopped, and Wonshik knew why. He was looking at the door that led to the desks, suddenly sharply focused, like an animal scenting prey. Maybe that’s exactly what he was. Wonshik could hear the heartbeat.

Hongbin pulled away, staggering toward the door, and Wonshik grabbed him, stopping him. Hongbin screamed, a high, terrible sound, and Wonshik immediately let him go. He swore under his breath. At least Hongbin’s progress was slow. 

Wonshik felt his fangs slide out, and he brought his own wrist up to his mouth and bit down harshly, opening two wounds. He’d see if Jaehwan was right. 

The blood ran down Wonshik’s arm, dripping to the floor, and Hongbin paused, sniffing the air, then he turned that intense gaze on Wonshik. It was the focused gaze of an animal, no deep thought, just need. His eyes locked onto the blood on Wonshik’s skin, and he made a sound, deep in his chest, and stumbled toward him, still slow but faster than he’d been moving before.

Wonshik side stepped him, heading up the stairs. He held his arm out, so Hongbin could see the blood shining wetly, and began walking backwards up the stairs. Hongbin followed, his eyes not leaving the wounds on Wonshik’s wrists. He went up the stairs half on his hands, every once in a while lurching forward suddenly and trying to grab at Wonshik’s outstretched arm. Wonshik was sweating, so frightened they were going to get caught. The amulet around his neck was humming nervously. 

When they got to the first level landing Wonshik let Hongbin catch up with him, and Hongbin grabbed his arm triumphantly. He licked the blood off Wonshik’s skin, but the wounds had closed. Wonshik brought his wrist back up to his mouth and bit down on it again, making new wounds, and then offered his arm to Hongbin once more. Hongbin put his mouth over the wounds and drank, sucking hard, making soft little whimpers as he did so.

Wonshik wrapped his free arm around Hongbin’s shoulders, and with Hongbin still drinking, they tripped through the first level. The amulet around Wonshik’s neck settled down, and Wonshik knew it was because there were no people on this level. Oh god. They were so close. 

Hongbin bit down on his wrist hard, too hard, and Wonshik hissed. He must have healed. Augh. Then Hongbin was drinking again, and Wonshik took a moment to run a hand over Hongbin’s hair. He needed to feed, really feed. And if Hongbin kept drinking like this, Wonshik would need to as well. 

They reached the warded metal door that led to the outside world. Hongbin stopped feeding, raising his head just long enough to growl at the door, red between his teeth. Wonshik echoed that sentiment. The door was only warded on the outside but it still didn’t feel pleasant even from the inside.

Wonshik fumbled for his keycard, unusually clumsy for a vampire. He was terrified, he realized. It was hard to tell, his new body responding to fear differently than his human body would have. 

He swiped his keycard, waiting for the fingerprint pad to light up, which it did, and when it scanned his fingertip (Wonshik had had to wrench his right wrist away from Hongbin, who had not been happy) and the little light turned green, Wonshik couldn’t help but sob in relief.

Then they were in the stairwell, and now Hongbin didn’t seem to need prompting. Wonshik flit up the stairs and Hongbin came stumbling behind him, the warded door seeming to project them out. 

Wonshik threw open the townhouse’s wooden door, and was greeted with strong moonlight and a cloudless sky full of stars. Hongbin barreled past him, out onto the concrete. 

Wonshik followed, afraid Hongbin might try to run, not that he’d get far, but he simply stumbled out, into the middle of the street, and then looked up, at the clear night sky. He was smiling, a terrifying, manic smile. 

Hongbin breathed in, face tipping so he could stare at Wonshik, half focused. “Out,” he said, giddy.

“Out,” Wonshik agreed. His blood was smeared across Hongbin’s face.

Hongbin looked back up at the moon and began laughing, that high, horrible laughter that Wonshik had heard coming from Hongbin’s cell night after night. He laughed, and laughed, like he couldn't stop. 

Wonshik led him away from HQ, down darkened streets, murmuring to him, and still Hongbin laughed, the sound echoing through empty streets. 

The man heard them coming, how could he not, but it didn’t matter. There was screaming then, frightened, awful human screaming.

But at least Hongbin stopped laughing.


End file.
